


Overworked

by Aen_Silver_Fire



Series: Uchiha Lovers [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Sex, Smut-no-jutsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aen_Silver_Fire/pseuds/Aen_Silver_Fire
Summary: Overworking yourself at night comes with certain consequences. Especially when you are the lover of the God of Death himself.Smutfic, inspired by the smoldering Thanatos!Itachi and his effortless grace.
Series: Uchiha Lovers [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804414
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Overworked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Seraphina_Scribes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphina_Scribes/gifts).



> For my dearest "daughter in law", Angel, and my Discord friends, also known as Quietards! Please, let this be a reminder that you should always take time to rest, even when you have to work long hours. Prioritize your well-being! Or else Itachi will have to make you....

Tonight you have mercilessly locked yourself upon the desk chair, staring at your bright computer screen. You feel your knuckles and fingers pleading for a pause, your eyes insistent on some form of rest. You, however, refuse to allow it to them. Not before you have accomplished your duties for the day. As you peek a hurried glance at the small clock on the screen, telling you it’s 22:26, you heave a sigh and readjust your position. Your task can be grueling, but it is also very fulfilling at the end. Plastering a forced smile on your face, the rhythmic sound of your typing fills the air with a pleasant clicking melody. You blink thrice, focusing on the problem at hand. But, your tired eyelids seem to be flashing red, every time you try to blink the weariness away. _Red_ and _red_ and _red..._

It is not long before a refreshing breeze plays along with the strands of your hair and a new alluring coolness draws elegant circles at the nape of your neck. Your eyes widen unexpectedly. This touch… is eerily familiar...

“So focused...” an enticing voice intones, much too close to your ear for your own good. “You haven’t moved from this position for several hours,” he comments and that is, as a matter of fact, true. How does he know this though, is beyond your mortal understanding.

“...Itachi...” you briefly acknowledge. A strange sense compels you to remain in place. As though it is forbidden to turn around and regard the love of your life face to face. Considering the fact that the person in question is nothing less than a powerful deity, conjured by eternal shadows, death and sheer magnificence, not being allowed to look upon him is not a far-fetched scenario.

Still, the God of Death _himself_ is now placing soft sensual kisses at your delicate neck and fervent touches at your curves, inciting a steaming heat in you, bubbling like boiling water over a pyre. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively. This way, you can feel his lips much more intensely. They leave a maddening and slightly wet path in their wake. You heave a sigh of almost surrender, but-

“I need to...” you try to speak coherently, to no avail. You let out another deep breath instead, a clear indication of your body responding very favorably to his ministrations. “...Work...” you manage to utter, in a last attempt to resist. Your shoulders are tensing just slightly at the implications this tryst promises to bring. Certainly, he is well aware that you need to complete your task by midnight. He is also aware of the very attentive and responsible nature of your character, that leaves no room for mishaps.

“No,” comes the unusually curt response. “You need to _let_ go,” he offers huskily and a hand comes to grasp your jaw and tilt it to the side and upwards. Then you _fully_ see him. His Sharingan proudly blazes like a scorching inferno. He leans down, so that his forehead touches yours. A shudder runs down your spine as you feel his body heat engulfing you. His hands travel now to the front, but pause just before he reaches spots that would certainly provoke your desire to the point of no return. “... _Surrender..._ ” are the last words you hear, before a war of senses breaks out. His lips come down on yours, biting wantonly, his tongue licking away all inhibitions. Now, nothing holds his hands back. They cup your breasts vehemently, eliciting a moan. Your reaction seems to urge him on even more.

Only a mere breathing second after, you hear a thunderous bang. With a simple sweep of his hand, your computer and everything around it is forcefully yanked and thrown onto the floor, your screen turning on and off in a frenzy. Before you can even properly comprehend what exactly transpired, you are pulled onto the now unoccupied desk, your legs hanging off the edge. In a flash, Itachi situates himself in front of you, his Sharingan still spinning fiery and hot.

“I’ve warned you many times to take ample breaks,” he says, while he tugs one rogue hair strand behind your ear, so very gently... as if he doesn’t have complete and utter control of you… of this _whole_ situation, that is bound to lead into a lustful firestorm of desire – certainly not according to your initial plans for the night. “I can _force_ you to take one.”

His lips crush onto yours once again. Your shirt is pulled over you in a matter of seconds. He unclasps your bra with remarkable ease, and you are left bare under his scorching gaze. Your hands brazenly move to his regal attire, but his hands immediately join yours to help remove his garments. All the while, he stares intensely at you; his eyes never leaving yours. So powerful, so commanding…

Soon he’s also left bare. By pure instinct your hands move towards his chest. You can feel his toned pectorals, his alabaster skin, his ripped abdomen clenching under your palms. His own hands come around your upper body, wreaking havoc on every part of you that they touch. Your index finger teasingly grazes his chest in such a manner, that stirs him into a more ardent direction. A guttural moan escapes him and you are then pushed down, your back meeting the table’s hard surface. It doesn’t escape his attention that certain parts of you jiggle lightly by the hurried motion. And so, he’s rushing to pay them some well deserved attention.

You exhale loudly, feeling his manhood now engorged and clearly visible even from this angle. The silent peek you sneaked does not go unnoticed either. His eyebrow lifts suggestively and an amused smirk graces his perfect lips. He responds by guiding his finger from the middle of your reddened, because of him, breasts downwards, reaching the hem of your pants. He doesn’t stop there. With a mere flick of said finger, he reaches further south, finding the peak of your womanhood. You shudder at the touch. While still staring at you, he traces mystical patterns at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You can’t help but moan deeply. Either you’re hallucinating, or, truly, a particularly entertained – and definitely a little smug– look settles on his divine features.

He doesn’t stop administering all sorts of affection to you… teasingly...relentlessly...deliciously… “I-Itachi..!” you moan again. “I….Uhm-” you manage to mutter. You’re getting very dangerously close to your release. So very close…

Your breath arrests in your lungs when he suddenly removes his finger from you. Before you find time to lament the loss of his touch, another one replenishes what’s been lost. He thrusts himself in you so tantalizing slow, that you had to restrain yourself from loudly imploring him to quicken his pace. You can feel every fiber on his skin meeting yours. It is not long before his sensual pacing becomes more fervent and fast. His adoration towards your body expresses itself from slow, loving caresses escalating towards hurried, delirious lovemaking.

He feels nothing less than absolutely divine as he moves inside you. All you can see is _crimson_ , his Sharingan, and _white_ , your impending release. The way you come undone is beyond breathtaking. It’s wholly fulfilling, as if your very existence itself is cocooned into a tight embrace of satisfaction and… ecstasy. It feels hot and heavy and incessantly smoldering; burning on and on and on until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t feel complete and whole and _his._

Before long, Itachi’s own release burst through every barrier of human sensation. He thrusts one last time and his cum melts into every part of your mortal being, like some sort of sensual ambrosia invigorating your very soul.

How _odd_ , you contemplate, it is to feel so utterly _alive_ in the arms of Death himself.

He reaches down to place a loving kiss at your puffy lips, a faint, but nonetheless proud, smile playing about his own ones. “That's it...” he whispers lovingly, softly caressing your disheveled hair. “Relax…” His voice, so manly and so soothing, feels like water to a parched throat. You hum assertively, still too lost in your own bliss. A ghost of a, barely there, chuckle escapes his lips, as you flutter your eyelashes in a daze.

“Well done,” he states and places another soft, affectionate kiss at your forehead.

This the last thing you hear, before you blink, just once, and suddenly find yourself sitting in an uptight position. You flex your fingers, testing them, only to realize that they hover above your keyboard as usual. Your computer, unscathed, stands at its usual place upon your working desk. You take a long, deep breath, registering that your body feels strangely… rested… satisfied… energized. A quick look around; he’s nowhere to be found.

“What….?” you wonder out loud, glancing at the small clock on the right down corner of the screen. It’s 22:26. Not even a minute has passed.


End file.
